Orestes
by Princess Turk
Summary: Written for belated weekly fic challenge with KirasTastefulTragedy. Sephiroth paints Cloud. Years later, Cloud returns the favor. Character death & soft Yaoi. Oneshot. In loving memory of Joseph Benjamin Stair. Complete.


**This is a belated oneshot from last week's weekly challenge with KirasTastefulTragedy [August 30th - September 5th; week #7: Art]. Sephiroth/Cloud; angst, romance, character death. Complete. Title taken from the song "Orestes" by A Perfect Circle, which I listened to on repeat while writing.**

**I do not own the characters nor do I plan to make money from this.**

**_"I can almost hear you scream / Give me one more medicated peaceful moment." - A Perfect Circle, 'Orestes'._**

-Dedicated to my dear friend Joe; 9/13/2007._ 'Three years. Had it really been that long?'_

* * *

Cloud watched from his position on the bed as Sephiroth began to paint his portrait. He gazed in quiet rapture at how intent the silver-haired man was while moving the paintbrush up and down in gentle strokes, side to side, back and forth. He was biting his lip in concentration, and every so often, Cloud would suppress a snicker as he watched the tip of his lover's tongue sneak out of the side of his mouth.

It had started out as a lazy afternoon, both of them lounging around in their sleeping pants and raiding the refrigerator for leftovers and cold-cuts. After eating a plethora of snacks, Sephiroth remembered months ago that he had promised Cloud that he would paint him. He remembered the look that Cloud had given him on that day: with one eyebrow up and the other down, Cloud's mouth had dropped open when Sephiroth had mentioned that he could paint - and fairly well, too. Jokingly, Cloud had offered to be his nude model. Little did he know that Sephiroth would hold him to his word. And so it was.

Cloud was laid out on their large bed, with nothing on except for his earring peeking out from behind the wild spikes of his hair.

"…Done yet?" he asked, slightly bored. Sephiroth had been standing behind the easel for over an hour now. Cloud had gone from amused to bored in thirty minutes. He had counted the number of tiles on their bedroom ceiling. He had quoted lyrics from songs that he loved, turning them into goofy parodies that made Sephiroth smirk but not take his eyes away from his work. He was almost unshakeable when he wanted to concentrate on something badly enough. It became almost a game to Cloud, trying his hardest to distract him.

"I'm hungry again." Nothing.

"There's paint in your hair." _Still_ nothing.

"I have to pee."

Sephiroth sighed. "You can wait a little longer. I'm almost done," he said, smirking while he put the finishing touches on the painting. He knew Cloud was playing with him. He glanced up briefly to make sure one more time that he had the edge of Cloud's leg painted just right, and when he did, his gaze lingered.

Cloud was slowly dragging his hand down his chest, then lower and lower as he saw that this had finally gotten his lover's attention. Sephiroth eyes traveled along with the blond's hand, his eyebrows slowly rising and his breath hitching in his throat as Cloud lightly brushed his hand across his cock. He locked eyes with Sephiroth as he gave his balls a quick squeeze, then ran his hand back up to his slowly-hardening member.

Sephiroth gulped. "You're supposed to not move, Cloud," he joked. He bit his lip again, this time out of lust for his lover. Cloud's hand moved up and down his ever-growing shaft, giving it slow strokes while he stared into Sephiroth's eyes. He let out a moan and shifted his hips slightly.

"Sephiroth…"

He couldn't take it anymore. Hearing his name being moaned, he tossed the paintbrush down onto the nearby table that held his supplies and quickly made his way over to Cloud, yanking down his pants on the way. He leaned down and forward, his knees pressed against the edge of the bed. Their lips met quickly yet gently, and Sephiroth raised a hand to Cloud's cheek to stroke his smooth, ivory skin. Cloud's eyelids had fluttered closed for a moment then opened again widely as he felt a cold, wet sensation on his face.

"…What is that?" he asked softly, his expression puzzled, then lifted a finger to touch his face.

Sephiroth looked down at him and smiled sheepishly. "Oh," he said, looking down at his large hands. Ocean-blue paint was smeared on his fingers, still wet from painting the color of Cloud's eyes. "Sorry." He was about to walk back to the table to get a rag when Cloud grabbed his arm and pulled him back down. Face to face, Cloud grinned up at him.

"Leave it," Cloud said, then tugged on a strand of Sephiroth's hair. "Kiss me."

Sephiroth let himself be pulled gently by his hair, ending up on top of Cloud. He let his lips dance lightly across Cloud's cheek where the paint was beginning to dry, then met his lips. Parting their mouths, the kiss deepened. Sephiroth rolled his tongue, letting it play against Cloud's. Cloud giggled softly between their parted lips and felt a blush rolling across his face and making him feel hot all over. Sephiroth held himself up with his hands flat on the bed and gazed down.

There was nothing more beautiful to Sephiroth than the sight of his blond lover beneath him; his eyes clear and bright blue, his legs wrapped tightly around his waist, his ankles locked tightly together and pulling Sephiroth closer. Any closer, and they would become as one person. When Sephiroth pushed forward and entered Cloud, he felt a tingle run up his spine. A soft sigh came from his slightly parted lips as he locked eyes with Cloud and began to move.

Cloud cried out softly, his back arching gracefully off of the bed. Sephiroth slid his arms beneath Cloud and wrapped them tightly around him, pulling him up into a gentle embrace. His hands smoothed the whole of Cloud's back, lightly trailing his fingers across slightly sweaty skin. He buried his face into Cloud's neck and inhaled.

"I love you. I love you," he exhaled softly and quietly, his eyes closing slowly as if caught in a dream. They rocked back and forth together, a motion that seemed blurred through Cloud's half-closed eyes. He finally closed them when he gently laid his head on Sephiroth's chest, one of his hands curling into a fist, clutching at imaginary threads that seemed to hold the two of them together as they made love. He hoped the bonds would never break, that they would be together until their days on Gaia were finished. Was that too much to hope for?

"I love you," Cloud replied finally, breathlessly, into Sephiroth's chest. From this position, he could feel and hear Sephiroth's heart beating. The steady thudding eventually turned into a beat inside of Cloud's head, sweet music to his soul. When he felt himself tense up and knew that the completion of their sensual dance was at hand, he opened his eyes and pulled Sephiroth's face toward his own. He wanted Sephiroth to see the look in his eyes as he came, even though the silver-haired man had seen it so many times before.

Sephiroth knew what was coming and braced himself for his own impending release. As he looked into Cloud's eyes and felt the familiar warmth of Cloud's release spreading across his belly, he clenched his jaw and let himself go. He wrapped his arms tighter around Cloud, closing his eyes and letting the wave pull him under. He felt it dragging him further and further away from the shore that was Cloud's body. The stars that he saw behind his closed lids were the stars above the sands of time that was spread across the beach in his mind; and as the tide rolled and pushed him back up to the surface, he let out a cry and collapsed on top of Cloud.

"I truly love you," Sephiroth said, nuzzling behind Cloud's ear. Cloud hummed in happiness and absent-mindedly threaded his fingers through Sephiroth's hair.

"Love you more."

"Want to see your painting?" Sephiroth asked. Cloud's eyes lit up as he nodded. Sephiroth pulled himself up to a sitting position and slowly stood up, his legs and knees still weak from such emotional and physical exertion. He grabbed Cloud's hands and pulled him up, then led him to the easel. He crossed his arms and waited for Cloud's reaction.

Cloud looked on for a moment in awe, then gasped. He looked down at his hands, studying his fingers to make sure of what he was seeing.

"I'm not wearing a ring. You painted a ring and I'm not wearing one," he said breathlessly. His hands flew to his mouth, his fingers covering his lips as he choked on a soft cry that escaped from his throat.

"You will be one day," Sephiroth replied, moving closer to Cloud's side. "I'm not saying we should do this right away, but we've been together for so long that it just seems right. I don't think either one of us is going to leave anytime soon, right?"

"…You're not the marrying type."

"You never asked my opinion on it. You just assumed," Sephiroth said.

Cloud had always assumed. He assumed about big things, little things. Things that didn't even really matter. Things that did matter.

Things were different now.

He sat with his back against the headboard of their large bed, staring at the painting on the wall. He raised his fingers to his lips and traced them lightly, still able to feel the warmth from Sephiroth's own lips from that day. He chuckled lightly as he ran a finger across his cheek, remembering the smear of paint that had been there only three years ago. A hot, wet tear was present there now, and he wiped it away angrily.

Cloud stood up from the bed and walked over to the painting. Pulling it off of the wall, he took it over to the dust-covered easel. Rummaging around in a desk drawer, he found Sephiroth's old paintbrush and a small container of gray paint. Looking around further, he found black and white paint as well.

_Sephiroth, I never was a good artist, but this will have to do._

He dipped the tip of the brush into the gray paint and began to outline a figure standing next to the bed where he lay in the painting. Keeping his strokes light, he followed with a touch of black to cast a shadow coming off of the gray figure. Slightly mixing white and gray paint together, he painted a mass of long, silver-colored hair flowing from the figure. He sat down the paintbrush and stood back. It was complete.

The ghost of his dead lover now stood at the side of their bed, and although you couldn't see his face, you just knew it was Sephiroth by the hair; long and flowing, silver-white like moonbeams that had danced on the ocean of Cloud's blue eyes for years.

He hung the painting back on the wall and sat down on the edge of their bed. His hands shook as he rubbed his palms on his knees. He felt his shoulders begin to shake as well. Three years. Had it really been that long? His plane had gone down in the mountains while on a business trip. Cloud remembered getting the call, remembered how the days and nights all blended into one seemingly endless nightmare. The painting had been there through it all, though, and he sometimes sat for hours just staring at it. He had memorized the dips and strokes, the fine lines, the shades and colors. A piece of his lover's soul was embedded in the very fiber of the painting. It was only fair that Sephiroth be in the painting, too.

Even if he was just a faceless ghost now, he would always be by Cloud's side. That was not an assumption.

It was a fact.


End file.
